When a mistress goes from "victim" to "target"

"I want to say to the rest of the country, 'Stop taking it out on the mistresses and start taking it out on the men who are cheating on their wives.' Why are these men getting off scot free while the mistresses are considered whores, and we're stepped on and we're booed and we're called nasty names? It's the man's responsibility, they're the ones in the marriage, they need to keep their vows. It's very easy to say, 'You know what I'm a married man.' They can easily walk away." - Michelle "Bombshell" McGee

This quote really bothers me.

For those unaware, McGee is the original mistress of Jesse James who crawled out of the woodwork to tell the world that she was sleeping with Sandra Bullock's husband. She then went on to say that she did it all because of the potential money that she'd earn from telling the story. Now she's wondering why she's the one being attacked.

I can tell you why...she's a whore.

And no, she's not a whore because she slept with a married man. This is absolutely James' fault because he was the married man and couldn't keep his dick in his pants. Much like Tiger Woods, he deserves every bit of the ridicule that has been thrown his way. The guy didn't just make a mistake and cheat on his wife once...he cheated multiple times with multiple partners, showing a complete and utter lack of respect for his spouse. He's slimy and has earned his new reputation for being as such.

No...McGee is a whore because she's whoring herself out for a few bucks. She didn't tell her story to simply break the news to help out Bullock in any way. She waited until Bullock won her Academy Award and rode that wave of high-profile fan-love until, like a viper, she struck at the most opportune time. She went out of her way to hurt Bullock in the worst way imaginable for her own personal gain.

And she's surprised at why the media and the public is attacking her.

Here's the thing...people can see through bullshit. And if you're going to break the news to the world that you're sleeping with a married man, and that married man is married to one of the most beloved celebrities in the country, and you're selling this story for money...then you better be prepared for the storm of attention that comes your way.

The primary victim here? The person who was actually cheated on. Sandra Bullock...Elin Woods...these are the women who were cheated on multiple times by their asshole spouses. They are the people who don't deserve this attention on them...and for the most part, the tabloid websites have been quite kind to them.

The secondary victims? Yes...the mistresses. Let's be honest, 90% of the mistresses of both Woods and James knew EXACTLY what they were getting themselves into...and they can cry and whine to the media all they want about how they were treated, but the fact of the matter is that they knowingly slept with married celebrities. So I have zero sympathy for them. Sell your stories to the tabloids and go away.

But yes, there are some mistresses who don't like being called that. They were "girlfriends" of James and Woods...they were told, and believed, that there were marriage issues and were seriously hurt when the truth was finally revealed. So I absolutely feel for these women as they were lied to by two unbelievable douchebag cheaters.

So when does one turn from being a "victim" to being a "target"? Do you feel sorry for Bombshell McGee? What about any of Tiger's girls on the side? Do they deserve sympathy? If so, which ones? All of them?

Ask Hot Dads...Or Not

OK Ladies…I’m gonna have to lay it out on the line for you.

You all say how much you love the Ask Hot Dads posts and many of you say that that is one of things that attracted you to the site in the first place. YET……I am nor receiving any questions from you.

Sure I could make up some questions…or better yet, make up some really juicy ones and just say that they are from YOU. (I could easily post a question like: ZenMom asked: “How (exactly) are babies made?” or Janie Woods asked: “How come sex toys don’t come with directions?”

But I won’t do that. If you want the Ask Hot Dads to continue…SEND ME YOUR FREAKIN QUESTIONS!!!!!
TentCamper1@gmail.com

Additionally, if you Guys have questions for the Hot Mamas…We can do that as well. (Not that we need answers to anything…you know, just to make the Mamas feel important.)

If you want your questions to be anonymous…say so or leave them in the comments anonymously. I can respect less knowledgeable folks being a bit embarrassed.

Tit for Tat Coparenting

Married folks know as well as divorced how hard it can sometimes be to divide up the parenting workload equally. (Unless, of course, you're NY Times columnist David Brooks spouting stone-age views on men and divorce.)

Tit for tat is what it’s all about!

If only I could find some tat to trade for… Oh, never mind.

Imagine you’re a parent – you spend hours online researching colleges that your teen might attend. You’d have your teen do it, but really – they might just look to see who has the best toga parties. You’re checking out degree programs, perusing the course curriculum. Nerdy, but important stuff.

And your ex or spouse? Cleaning up the ski cabin, prepping it for winter snow trips.

Now then, if you’re married, this might be a pretty nice trade-off. I mean, you both benefit from both tasks. Your teen gets into a good school with a good program? Awesome! You all enjoy some killer snowboarding and skiing in the family winter cottage? Killer! (Or whatever the kids say these days.)

We’re talking some seriously perky tit for tat.

But then imagine you’re divorced. While you slave your ass off online, looking at boring-ass college course descriptions, your ex is prepping a snow cabin you will never see.

This tit for tat seems a bit droopy to me.

I know there's give and take in every relationship, even divorced ones. I also know that work division ebbs and flows. But some coparenting exchanges just seem blatantly unequel.

How do married spouses keep the tit for tat equilibrium firm and round and not fake?

And how can that tit for tat love be spread to divorced “couples”, when one ex seems to be taking advantage of the other, like a major boob?

I guess I prefer my tits tatted.

Dad's House offers stories and tips about dating and parenting as a single dad. Plus - a killer margarita recipe, 'The Boys are Back' movie review, Jon and Kate divorce, teen dating, spooning naked. It's all good. And pretty darn perky.

Flickr image by stevegatto2, some rights reserved.

Service with a smile

While eating dinner the other evening, my wife J- asked me for a napkin. I immediately reached for my own as she began an anecdote, and I quickly flicked it over toward her with two fingers, in my continuing effort to set the best possible example I can for the children.*

The napkin, folded just once in half, sliced up through the air and then zoomed straight down into her mouth like a sniper's bullet shot from an extremely handsome and talented gun.

Because this may already be the most perfect moment that will ever happen in my entire life, I can't help but feel a bit melancholy whenever I laugh hysterically all over again about the look on her face.

---

* I have to note here, in a footnote as long as the post itself, that she absolutely hates having things thrown towards her, since she's baselessly paranoid about her supposed inability to catch projectiles of any kind, so I'm not really sure why I chose to throw the napkin in the first place, but I admit I had no idea it had the weight and shape to perform this miracle.

She's actually not half-bad at catching, and not quarter-bad at throwing, though of course she's nowhere near the superhuman level at which I operate.

I think it must be my own freakish reflexes that lead me to constantly initiate spontaneous games of catch on a microsecond's notice. After all this time, J-'s been known to threaten me with severe bodily harm at seeing me do so much as raise my arm up with something in my hand.

Even she had to appreciate the beauty of this one, though. The kids sure did.

Posted by LiteralDan

The Marriage Contract

Well I have posted this on my blog way back yonder and it was a big hit and I was asked about it recently I relinked it and again folks liked it. I figured I'd post it here, hell if it helps one person then it will be worth it.

** Note. It is not the content in the contract that is important it is the method and the thought of it that is. I realize that many of you would not take her deal or mine. The contract will of course be different for each and every coupling. Obviously my contract is much much longer than what is listed here, though it didn't go into the minutia it does cover almost everything. Also, situations change so writing and absolute contract would never work, anyway here ya go.

Well I asked a while back about what to blog about and some of the things were my takes on things.
The thing I get asked about the most in real life is the marriage contract.
The Marriage Contract is something I thought up before I got married and has served me well for however long I have been married, 10-13 years. It is very simple and positive to make marriage easier if both people are honest about what they write into the contract. I think unmarried folks should think about this. ( I wrote this post way back and haven't posted it, but just last week my buddy was over planting a dove field and he was talking about it, about me meeting with his bro and his fiancee, my buddy of course had all the details pre-wedding and of course didn't do it but is now the biggest promoter of it!)

I get questioned about it all the time and inevitably folks don't follow through with it and then in 3 years when they are bitching about their marriage and I ask about the contract they just say man I should have done it.

The contract came about because my married friends were always bitching about he doesn't do this, she won't do that and always ended up with if i'da known he/she was going to act like this/that or the other I'd have run her/his ass off before we married.

People always see the wonderful, great stuff about being married, its all going to be beer and wings then when they get married they see that the shit is tough. So I was trying to address the little shit before I said I would. See the bride had been after me to wed her for about 8 of the 10 years we courted, so I got to studying on it and decided if we could agree then I would. See in my mind a wedding is nothing more that a business deal. The problem being that most folks don't lay out the terms of the deal prior to shaking on it. I have been in several partnerships and in each we broke the deal down to the smallest details before doing anything, that way everyone knew where they stood.

So here is how it went down.

I said ok you wanna get married, suits me. Go get 2 trapper keepers and come up here to the table. She did and she sat on one side and I sat on the other. I said ok, I want you to write down everything you intend to do in this marriage and I will do the same.

We did that.

then I said ok, next page.
Now you write everything you believe I should/will do in this marriage and I will do the same.
We did that.

Then we looked and compared both. We tried to merge them and saw some sticking points, we discussed them one at a time. So then we went back and re-wrote them and merged them and discussed, re-wrote, merged, discussed. This went on for about 2 days. Just conversing, not fighting.

What we came up with was the marriage contract.
I have it still and have had to bust it out 3-4 times but usually when we start arguing if it was something addressed in the contract it kills that right now.

The contract reads something like this (each point is spelled out on the contract but it would be the longest post in history if I typed it all):

I have zero responsibility in the house. I don't clean, wash, sweep, vacuum, or any other thing in the house. I do not cook, help cook, clean up cooking stuff. I do not wash, dry or fold clothes. I do zero household chores.

I do haul the trash (yeah I live in BFE we haul our trash off)
I do mow the grass
I do yard work but not pertaining to the 9765446898 plants she has out there.

She is expected to do nothing in the yard
She is not expected to earn any income, ever.
She is never expected to be employed ever.
She is not expected to handle investments but is expected to pay the bills (actually write the checks out).
She is expected to keep the house tidy (not spic and span)
She is in charge of all spending, but I retain veto power on any spending. (she is damn sure the best purchasing department in the history of mankind, she can by god spend some damn money)
She tends the brood ( I have changed diapers though twice, one per rugrat.)

If she denies me relations 3 days in a row (initial wording was 3 times in a row but we changed it because she was complaining if I got morning sex I would ask 3 times before lunch) then I have a get outta jail free card.
If I ever turn her down once then she has one.

It is my responsibility to ensure she has adequate transportation and to keep said vehicle maintained. I am responsible for making sure all needed things like planning for our economic future, making sound financial decisions, doing a monthly budget with her every month, everything except insurance she handles that because I hate insurance second only to taxes.

Of course shit comes up that isn't addressed but most things are covered under some section of the contract. I had never heard, and still haven't, of anyone else pimping this plan. It really has worked well. If both folks are honest about things, then you can handle shit pre-fuck up. In the least it allows you to prove someone said they would do something.

I know one other guy that has done it and he also raves about it. Hell you might even find out you should run like you are on fire from whoever is sitting across the table!!


That is pretty much it. It is spelled out in far greater detail in the contract but thats the crux of it. The best part of it is it was agreed upon prior to any formal partnership. Everyone knows what to expect so the surprises are few.

The damnedest thing about it is she thinks she won.

There ya go. Not heard on Dr. Phil, Dr. Laura or Okra!

Discuss.

Total Recall

I am one swift blow to the head from being the guy in the movie Memento.

I have a terrible memory. Seriously, my capacity for details surprisingly shallow. Each day that I wake up and remember my name and where I live is a small victory. I’m good with faces, but not names, which means that I probably give people a lot of awkward blank stares during social events. I don’t know what my friends do for a living or how old my parents are. I’ve long since forgotten the stats of my kids when they were first born.

It could be argued that my diminished capacity for details stems from one too many abuses of my brain during extra-curricular activities in college. But I’m comforted by the fact that my memory was terrible long before those debaucherous days. Though I’m sure they didn’t help.

Don’t get me wrong, my brain works. I know this cause I can remember useless things like what theater, with whom and where I was sitting for just about every movie I’ve seen on the big screen. I can conjure up hundreds of Simpsons quotes and I can remember song lyrics from the 80s. But I will forget to run the dishwasher, even though I was asked to do it a mere hour earlier.

WonderWife™ is quickly losing patience with me. Not that I can blame her. Many of our conversations go like this:

DGB: So what are we doing this weekend?

WW™: You’re taking the Bean to a birthday party because I have an appointment with Sprout.

DGB: Really? Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?

WW™: I did. We had a whole conversation about it. Last week. Over breakfast. You were eating eggs. I had a whole wheat bagel with cream cheese. You were wearing your red striped shirt. It was overcast and 67 degrees.

DGB: Nope. No memory of that. Are you sure it happened?

It’s not that I don’t care about these things. It’s just that the more mundane details of life tend to run through my brain like water through a colander. As a parent, there is so much more that I need to remember. These two extra small people living with us come with and endless amount of facts, trivia, statistics and rules. Not to mention the host of new people in our lives as a result. WW™ has excelled at cultivating different mommy communities—both on line and in real life. So now when she tells me that she’s going out with Lisa, I need to remember she is, what kid she parents and her husband’s name and occupation. I'm useless at birthday parties where it's all blank stares and birthday cake.

I used to blissfully bounce through life, unaware of what I was forgetting. But now I'm reminded of what I don't know and can't remember on a daily basis. It's starting to be a drag on everyone, especially me. But what is there to do?

So I ask of you, Hot Dads readers… Um, what was I talking about?

The Struggles of a Mixed Marriage

If you read parenting blogs, and judging by the fact that you’re looking at these words right now—you do, you can learn about a lot of different kinds of relationships. But there is one type in particular that I think has been overlooked. It is one that is fraught with its own unique struggles and complications. One that I know a lot about, and feel needs to be addressed.

I have a mixed marriage.

WonderWife™ and I share an intimate and fulfilling union. There are enough things that we enjoy together that we barely notice our differences. That was until we had kids. Before getting pregnant, we talked a lot about raising a family and it was clear that our parenting styles matched. But we overlooked one major issue and now we are facing serious choices about how to raise our children.

You see, I am a geek and she is not.

I am a pop culture sponge, who makes plans a month in advance to make sure “Iron Man” is seen on opening weekend. I can liberally quote “The Simpsons”, and I often do. I aspire to be a Mythbuster and I don’t see the downside in staying up late watching a marathon of “Battlestar Galactica” on DVD. I know who watches the Watchmen. My wife does none of this. In fact, WonderWife™ has very little interest in the things that I love most. She has come to tolerate me thrashing about the living room playing Guitar Hero, or spending the greater part of the evening researching which is the very best flat screen TV on the market. None of this is a surprise to her. So when she rolls her eyes and mutters “geek” to me while I’m engrossed in “The Venture Brothers” I remind her that she picked me and she married me. She tells me that someday, she’s going to let our kids open up all of my mint-in-box action figures. But this is just her way of saying, “I love you”, much like the second grade boy who pulls a girl’s pigtails to get her attention.

There was a period when I was remorseful about not marrying one of my kind. But I’ve come to learn that marrying a non-geek (or “normie” as we like to call you) comes with a certain degree of freedom. She’s a homebody who doesn’t care if I spend Friday night drinking Red Bull and watching horror movies with the guys. There is no pressure for us to hire a babysitter so that we can see “The Dark Knight” in Imax.

What we didn’t stop to think about was what our mixed marriage would to do our kids. Do we choose their paths for them, or wait until they are old enough to decide for themselves? And if we do choose for them, how could we pick which side? Will they start to ask questions like, “Why does Daddy believe in the Force and Mommy does not?” Should they use a Mac or a PC? Will they agree to spend our family vacation at Comic Con? These are all big issues and we have yet to figure out the answers.

Each day becomes a silent struggle for control of the kids’ will. My son, the Bean, is just over three and I have been trying to subtly woo him into the geek life for the better part of a year. Instead of the standard Mr. Potato Head, I bought him a Darth Tater. Although he has never seen “The Simpsons”, he can point out Homer on a TV shirt. He has a Star Wars cape and a Mr. Fantastic t-shirt. It’s too early to tell where he will fall, but I was encouraged at his glee towards my friend’s voice-activated R2-D2.

I’ve come to accept that there are just some things that I will never have. During Halloween, I found myself staring longingly at a couple who dressed up their infant as Yoda, knowing that such an act would be forbidden in my family. But these are the sacrifices one makes for love.

Although WonderWife™ and I are different, we have a strong bond and a solid relationship. We both adore our kids and have each promised to support them, no matter which side they ultimately choose.

But it would be awesome if they were into “Lord of the Rings.”

Sexy Is As Sexy Does. Right?

Okay, ladies. I’m going to bare my soul to you, for just a bit. There’s other things I’d probably be baring, but being married and all, that could create a hassle. But, the soul will do for now.

I need your help.

See, no one would ever accuse me of being Rico Suave. First of all, I don’t have the looks. Secondly, while I am not a complete dillweed when it comes to matters le sexy, I just don’t have the natural chops for it. The more so for being in a state of matrimony.

I was never a “ladies’ man in the sense I had a silver tongue and could charm the pants off of any sweet thing that would listen. I knew plenty of guys like that, and I just never could master the art. Of course, some of those guys were the male equivalent of a skank, so maybe not such a good role model. Still, there was always a little bit of envy that I could never get rid of. And to be completely honest, there was a fair bit of luck involved in how I met the woman who became my wife, while we were in college. Beer may have been involved, but I suppose I had some verbal skills that may have had a hand in persuading her I wasn’t a complete dork.

Of course, the reality is that, when in college generally speaking you just have to show up and be clean, and smell good. After all, when your budget is such that you are pulling money from the ATM in $5 increments, it’s not like you have a whole lot of green to be buying roses and chocolates or skimpy lingerie. Or porn.*

So back then things were a little simpler, didn’t have to think about it so much. That changed a little bit after I graduated. The Spouse and I got hitched shortly after graduation, and soon after that we both had jobs, and soon after that we moved into our own apartment. Sexy time was pretty easy and convenient then: no supervision, no kids, plenty of energy. Familiarity was actually a bonus.

But you know what happens with familiarity. Things tend to cool off, if you get my drift. Over time, things get in the way, dealing with jobs, and housework and lack of energy and generally everything but what matters most: your partner. Because there is a tendency to take them for granted. And when that happens, you tend to start making less and less effort to impress them, to attract them, to make them feel special.

All that before kids enter the mix. Whew.

I love my Wee Lass more than words can adequately describe, but let’s face it: kids are vampires. Loveable, cute, amazing vampires. They just suck the life out of you sometimes, which I’m sure you know doesn’t exactly leave a whole lot left over for a bit of romantique de la femme.

Hell, that does not even leave enough energy for a mumbled “Hello” some nights!

Still, the desire to make our better halves feel special, like the queen us guys know that you are (and always knew you were), never really goes away. At least for me, it hasn’t. It tends to get lost sometimes. But I’m dealing with limited energy and time, and I could use some helpful tips.

So, ladies, what is it that gets you going? What is it that makes you feel special and well-disposed towards the well-intentioned if somewhat absent-minded mooks in your lives? And I don’t necessarily mean the grand gestures**; even a numbskull like me gets that. I am thinking more along the lines of the small things*** we can do every day or every week to let you know we are thinking of you, want to be with you, and that you still got it goin’ on.

I throw myself on the mercy of your court, and await your gracious guidance.

Peace,
Irish Gumbo

*Not that I bought any porn. Just sayin’. Well, maybe a little. No videos, though.
**Nice dinner, flowers, a visit to a day spa, time alone: these things I understand. C’mon, I may be dense, but not that dense!

***Anecdotally, I overheard a woman once telling a female friend something to the effect that “at this point, him doing the laundry would be a turn on.” Does this really cross your minds?

Posted By Irish Gumbo